


Dance Monkey

by twinkhemmings



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Angst, Evil Corporations, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hacking, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 18:37:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21432865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkhemmings/pseuds/twinkhemmings
Summary: The love between Tyrell Wellick and Elliot Alderson is a unique and complex one, but who is the dancing monkey in their relationship?
Relationships: Elliot Alderson/Tyrell Wellick
Kudos: 46





	Dance Monkey

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in this fandom after recently falling in love with Tyrell and Elliot. I can't wait to produce more Mr. Robot works, but for now, please do enjoy this light story between these two amazing characters ♥
> 
> Inspired by Tones and I - Dance Monkey  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhg80GcBs7o

_“Ooh, I see you, see you, see you every time_

_And oh my, I, I like your style_

_You, you make me, make me, make me wanna cry_

_And now I beg to see you dance just one more time”_

Tyrell hated the way Elliot cowered behind the dark material of his hoodie. He wanted to see the deep purple rings circling the young hackers’ grey eyes, the prominent jut of his cheekbones, his grey eyes boring into his soul after every harsh word he spoke. Tyrell hated Elliot’s sense of style: his too tight jeans, his obnoxious black hoodie, the way he carried himself as though he wanted to disappear.

_“Why don’t you try wearing something that compliments your defining features more, Elliot?” Tyrell mused as he watched the young hacker dress, the Swede laid haphazardly in Elliot’s bed as though he did not have a single care in the world, “Maybe something red, or mulberry to exaggerate your dark hair?” he continued, squinting to focus on Elliot as though his was searching his brain for the correct colour combination._

_“Because I don’t want to stand out from the crowd. I like to be invisible to most people” Elliot confessed as he tugged on the zipper of his hoodie, the scrape of metal against metal seemingly loud in Elliot’s quiet apartment._

_“But even like this” Tyrell indicated towards Elliot, “You never failed to stand out to me” he continued, running his hand through his hair before resting his arm between the wall and the back of his head._

_Elliot chewed on the inside of his lip as he attempted to conjure up a response, his eyes trailing down the exposed torso of his European lover, the Swede’s chest rising and falling gently as he awaited a response. _

_“That’s because you came looking for me” Elliot spoke softly, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, his facial features soft as he diverted his gaze from Wellick’s eyes that were seemingly boring into his._

_“Touché”_

*

Tyrell hated the fact that Elliot spent his whole life mitigating circumstances in order to protect himself. Tyrell thought it was immature, childlike, and often infuriating when the Swede wanted some spontaneity. Tyrell often tried to tell Elliot that life cannot be predicted in the same way as code: not everything can be perfectly crafted to ensure a positive outcome because fate doesn’t work that way. The European was a huge advocate of fate, often placing his success on the pedestal of fate rather than his continuous hard work. Tyrell truly believes that he was _chosen, _whereas Elliot simply made himself occasionally heard in a sea of white noise.

Tyrell also hates the way that Elliot refuses to dance. Sometimes, after a smoke or two, Tyrell feels relaxed enough to pursue his desires towards Elliot. Tyrell gets handsy when he smokes – but only if he’s with the young American.

_“Elliot, I know you’ve got rhythm really” Tyrell complained like a petulant child, his hands holding Elliot’s delicate hipbones as though he was branding the hacker. _

_“I don’t dance, Tyrell. Dancing is for preppy girls, drunk dads, and strippers – exclusively” Elliot continued to huff, pathetically pretending to flee Tyrell’s grasp. _

_“What about high dads? You’re pretty much one of those” Tyrell hummed as he rubbed his nose gently against the side of Elliot’s head, the young man’s short hair tickling the Swede’s face._

_“Except the fact I’m not a dad, nor particularly high” Elliot sighed, rolling his eyes but allowing Tyrell to continue to caress his face with his own, “You’re the one who can’t handle weed.”_

_“I never claimed I could though, did I?” Tyrell pursed in response, his cheek now resting atop Elliot’s dark mass of hair as the young American began to relax into their swaying embrace, Flipper trotting around the two of them as though they were all ‘dancing’ together._

_“God, you’re so pedantic” Elliot groaned, shaking his head so that Tyrell’s moved off the top his, the two of them now resting their foreheads against one another._

_“Says you” Tyrell hummed, his red-rimmed eyes boring into Elliot’s, “You’re the one who is so anal about me misnaming coding languages.”_

_“That’s because they’re different things, Tyrell” Elliot stated matter-of-fact, the weed clearly having little effect on his sense of humour. Elliot pressed a gentle kiss to Tyrell’s jaw in an attempt to apologise for failing to acknowledge his gentle teasing._

_“Oh Elliot” Tyrell hummed, “You really are like a dancing monkey. You are the accomplice who follows the leader, always taking the bait when I tease you” he continued, the young hacker’s jaw stiffening at the thought of being the accomplice whilst Tyrell was the leader._

_“I will never be your dancing monkey, my dear Tyrell. This is all my plan – all my design.”_

_*_

Tyrell hates the way that Elliot cries. He thinks that the young hacker looks like a puppy abandoned at an old scrap yard. Tyrell has never really been one for animals, so Elliot’s ability to look like a wounded animal fails to tug at Tyrell’s heartstrings. Elliot doesn’t often cry, but when he does, it is rarely in the company of another person, especially Tyrell Wellick. However, the older man had seen Elliot cry at least half-a-dozen times, and all of those times Tyrell had though that Elliot looked like a pathetic hacker whose wrongdoings had caught up with him.

“Elliot, please don’t cry” Tyrell pleaded, the young hacker currently stood outside Tyrell’s apartment as the rain poured down on the black fabric of his hoodie, the rain merging with his tears as though to disguise.

Whilst Elliot failed to stop crying, he did allow the Swede to grasp his quivering wrists and pull him inside away from the harsh New York winter. Tyrell proceeded to pull Elliot’s soaked hood down, followed by the zipper, then shortly followed by removing the drenched item of clothing. The older man pressed gentle kisses to Elliot’s face as he attempted to stop the hacker crying, his tears making Tyrell’s heart ache more with every tear that fell from his swollen grey eyes.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you” Tyrell whispered into Elliot’s ear as he enveloped the young American, his arms wrapping around him as though to shield him from any further pain.

Tyrell didn’t know why Elliot was crying, nor did he need to know. The older man knew not to pry and to instead allow Elliot to reveal his emotions on his own terms without being pressured: the last time Tyrell pried it resulted in Robot appearing and telling him that Elliot detested him. Whilst he knew Elliot loved him, not hated him, the thought that half of Elliot _did_ hate him was enough to trouble his thoughts for several weeks.

“Please can I stay here tonight?” Elliot whimpered, his tears melting into Tyrell’s baby-blue.

“Elliot, you can stay here whenever. You could stay forever, if you wanted to.”

*

It quickly became apparent that Tyrell was not listing things he hated about Elliot Alderson, but rather the things he _loves _about him. Tyrell didn’t hate the way Elliot tried to hide from the world, he loved the way the young man treated everyone he met with suspicion, including Tyrell at first. The way Elliot approaches life is a way that Tyrell _admires_ – his ability to exist in his own little world without a hierarchy of interference. Rather than being told what to do, Elliot always found a way to make happen what _he _wanted to happen. Elliot didn’t rely on fate and good will, but instead, his ability to calculate, order, and organise despite his continuously spiralling mental health.

There had been many occasions in which Elliot had made _Tyrell_ cry. Not out of hurt, but rather Tyrell’s inability to contain his mounting affections for the young man. No matter how harsh his words, Elliot would never mean to hurt Tyrell, and the older man knew that. Tyrell knew it was Mr. Robot who wished Tyrell had never interfered with Elliot’s life, not Elliot.


End file.
